Godfather Death
by Ribeiro1986
Summary: On a trip to solve a mystery in Phoenix, a very ill Sam is hunted by a creature, in what could be his time of death. Can Dean save him this time? Brotherly love, no slash
1. Chapter 1

**Hello!**

**Instead of writting another story of Jessica been a hunter and follow the boys in the hunt trip, i decided to come up with a new idea, based on another story with th same tittle i read in this site years ago.**

**The stoy bellow, take place on season 2 and is also based on a fairytale with the same name, writen by the Brother Grimm. Honestly, its isn't my favorite fairytale, but i think its fits for this show.**

**So, i hope you like it.**

**Please, enjoy.**

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_DSCWin, thanks very much for the help fixing this and for let me use your character in the story, hope i didn't let you down._

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**PART 1**

It was a late warm night in Phoenix, Arizona and the Winchesters found themselves sitting in a motel room. Sam sat at the table doing research while his older brother was lounging on the bed playing a game on his phone. The city of Phoenix was plagued with a lot of sick people more so then the Winchesters could come up with a rational thought. The only connection they all found out was all the victims were all seeing the same Doctor, but they would only be turned away as the Doctor would say they were suffering from the common cold. But the victims were piling up which brought the Winchesters there.

Sam's eyes narrowed with annoyance as he reached over and grabbed some tissues that were nearby and pulled it towards him. He had just pulled one out when he felt his nose start to tickle. "Crap," he said just as he sneezed into the tissue.

"You okay?" Dean asked paying attention to his brother.

"Yeah," Sam said sniffing before blowing his nose. "I think I'm just coming down with a cold or it could be just allergies." After he had said that his throat was scratchy and he let out a hard cough that felt his throat catch on fire. He cleared his throat trying to put the sneeze and cough to the back of his mind. "Dean have you heard of Godfather Death?" he asked, trying to keep his mind off of his tickling in the back of his throat.

"Wasn't it a fairytale by those Brothers Grimm?" Sam nodded fighting to keep the cough from building. "Why?"

"I think it may be our connection." Sam answered pulling out their father's hunting journal and flipped through it until it rested on an entry. "Look here, I saw this entry and it made me remember of that story." He pulled out another book that Dean remembered as the collection of the Brothers Grimm stories. "Dad said that there was a doctor that when he'd visit someone, the loved ones remembered hearing the patient saw the grim reaper standing at the end of their bed. Next thing they know their loved ones are dead."

"So you're saying," Dean said in a mocking tone. "That this fairytale is the connection for all these deaths here?"

"Well it fits, Dean." Sam said fighting back another urge to cough. "These people were visited by the same doctor. It's the only connection we have so far."

"Well, I think you should rest that voice of yours." Dean said grabbing his pajamas and a towel. "Because tomorrow you'll might have to read that fairytale to the doctor."

"Yeah, sure." Sam laughed clearing his throat to try and stop the tickling. He reached up to grab his own pajamas to switch into but thought it was weird that his room was beginning to blur around him. He could barely focus on any item inside the room. He kept squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing them to see if that would clear them up. It would work for a second before blurring up once more. He shook his head knowing he was most likely tired and decided to just change into his pajama pants and climb into bed.

He lay in bed listening to his brother try and sing in the shower which made him chuckle that Dean kept denying that he ever did sing. But when that chuckle turned into a deep chested cough he knew something was wrong with him. Sam slowly sat up and pulled his copy of the Brothers Grimm fairy tales and turned to Godfather Death. He had to try and find a connection as he lay in bed. His eyes stung as he tried to focus on the words.

"What are you still reading that story?" Dean asked making his brother jump. Dean didn't see the confusion in Sam's eyes as he slid into bed. "Are you going to stay up longer?"

Sam opened his mouth to tell him that he was, but instead started to cough roughly bringing tears into his eyes. Dean knew this wasn't a common cold as he rushed out of his bed, and gently pushed his brother back into the sheets. Sam's body quivered as he closed his eyes againt the pain that was starting to spread through is lower body to his neck.

Dean, full of concern, gently pressed his hand on his brother's forehead. "Sam you're burning up, are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah..." Sam forced a smile even though his eyes still were clenched tight. "I-I think I ate some-something that didn't a-agree with m-me."

Dean was unsure if his brother was indeed alright. "If you say so." Dean said before reluctantly getting back into bed. He silently watched his brother who fell into an uneasy sleep.

_/_

Sam woke up and was barely able to get to the bathroom in time when his stomach revolted against him. Nothing from dinner was in his stomach as Sam knelt next to the commode expelling the acidity of bile that stung his eyes and nose. Dean, who had been awake felt helpless as his younger brother continued to heave and let out shaky cries of pain in the bathroom. After several tense minutes he heard the commode flushing and saw his younger brother stumbling back to his bed. He watched how his giant of a brother could barely pull the blankets over his chest. But felt even more helpless when Sam simply fell into an uneasy sleep with the blankets barley covering his waiste.

Dean slowly sat up and walked over to his brother's side before finishing pulling up the blanket to tuck it snuggly around his younger brother. Memories of when his Sam was younger and was sick with the flu. The fun times he had feeding his brother chicken noodle soup, watching Goonies and reading the Grimm Brother's fairytales. He picked up his cellphone and quickly sent a text to his younger sister, he and Sam discovered two years previous. She had been taking care of a small werewolf problem in Lincoln Nebraska and had texted them letting them know she was on her way to reunite them.

_"Christy, it's Dean. Sammy's really sick. Stay in Lincoln. I'll text you when you can come to us.-Dean."_ Dean looked at the time figuring she was probably asleep or up getting ready to move. He hoped for the latter.

"_Alright. Keep me posted on his health. It's not everyday we get sick for you to be concerned, huh?"_ Dean was both surprised and relieved that she was up and trying to lighten the mood.

_"Get some more sleep. No point loosing sleep now.-Dean_." Dean texted back keeping an eye on his brother's face.

_"Sounds like a plan. Luckily you caught me when you did. I was about to leave. Night. Give my best to Sam."_ Dean smiled as his sister's reply was genuinely concerned.

Dean walked into the bathroom and grabbed hold of one of the wash clothes to get it damp with cool water. After ringing out the extra water he carefully drapped it over Sam's sweating forehead and for the first time wished both his father and mother were alive to help, before he reluctantly climbed back into bed to try and sleep.

_/_

Sam woke up with an extremely sour stomach. He was barely able to roll onto his side to expell the burning from his throat which turned out to be water. He could hear it splatter on the floor beside him but he couldn't see it. The event caused more coughing which stung his throat and made his body, already feeling stiff and sore, to quiver with pain. He rolled back onto his back and felt incredibly drained of energy. He tried to keep his mind off anything as it made his head feel ten times worse.

His eyes rolled inside his head as he tried to gather his bearings and to see if he could get anything in his room to focus. Slowly the room did indeed become clearer but it wasn't the dark dusty hotel room he and his brother were staying. He was in a nice apartment that looked vaguely familiar. A place where his life changed. He felt something slide down the side of his face and very weakly moved his arm across his mouth.

_/_

He could hear something off in the distance, it sounded like cars driving, dogs barking, people talking and children playing. Did I sleep through the night; he thought trying to move. His throat was dry and scratchy and he attempted to sit up but his body would not allow it. Why is it so cold here; he thought letting out another rough set of coughing that stung his throat and made his eyes water. How can someone live this awfully?

Sam heard movement in the room as his head automatically moved in that direction. He figured his brother would no doubt think he was asleep so he knew he had to call him. He needed to let him know he was awake and in much need of water.

"D'n?" He groaned his throat too dry to comfortably talk louder then a whisper. He felt someone sitting on the edge of his bed and felt soft hands gently cupping his face.

"Sam." Sam felt his insides turn cold as the voice drifted over him. "He's called the doctor he should be here." The voice was soft and sweet, warm and soothing. He slowly opened his eyes hoping his eyes wouldn't be deceiving him.

"Jess?" He asked unsure his eyes were truly working correctly. But the image of his late girlfriend sitting there on the edge of his bed. She was wearing her silk night gown and her hair was pulled into a ponytail. She was there with a cup of water with several ice cubes in there.

"Take it easy, babe." Jess replied helping him by lifting his head so he could take a swig of the water. It tasted warmer then it should be but it did help with his throat. "Your brother has called the doctor and should be here soon."

"Why the d'tor?" Sam asked his throat tightening up again. He let out another string of heavy coughing.

"You're sick there, babe. Been sick for the last three days." A knock from nearby rang out and Jess stood up. Her blurry figure stood up slowly. "That must be the doctor I'll be right back, Sam." Jess said walking away and the room suddenly became dark.

"No...J-Jess co-come back..." Sam tried to move his hand but it wasn't obeying him. "D-Don't leave m-me ag-again..."

But Jess never returned. Sam tried to yell out her name again but only coughing ensued hard and loud. His chest seized with pain as his head began to pound behind his eyes. He felt like his whole body would break apart by the sheer throbbing of his head and the coughs that now plagued him. He wanted to scream out for Jess once again.

Something flickered out of the corner of his eye. It flickered and it slowly began to die. As his eyes strained to look at it more clearly he could see it taking shape into a candle that looked like it was about to be snuffed out. Something else appeared in his room. He was getting scared when he couldn't tell what it was. It slowly began to become clear but Sam closed his eyes wanting nothing to do with the new person that stepped into his room.

"Sam? Sammy?! What's wrong?" The voice was deeper and not nearly as soothing then when he heard Jess'. "Sam can you hear me?"

Sam slowly opened his eyes and nearly cried again when he saw his dad, John, standing over him looking worried. Sam lifted his hand to touch his dad's face wanting to confirm he was seeing these people. But once again his arms would not respond.

"D'n?" Sam called out his voice distant and sore.

"He's at school, Sammy. He'll be home in a few hours. Your mom is calling a doctor."

Sam's eyes widened but the image of his dad did not clear up. "Mom...? I want mom..."

"She'll be up once she gets your soup ready." John's voice tried to laugh but it was full of worry. "While we wait for the doctor she'll be up to read to you as well, son."

Sam let out coughs as he heard someone come in. He tried to focus on the person that arrived but all he could do was see darkness. "Dad...d-don't leave m-me."

"Sam. Sam it's okay. It's okay I'm here." Sam's heart nearly stopped when he heard her. The voice he only heard once. "How about your favorite story huh?"

Sam opened his mouth to speak but only a cough came out. Something now stopped at the head of his bed. He looked over expecting to see his Mom's, Mary's, face but his vision was extremely blurry he couldn't tell any features.

"Godfather Death," Mary began to read. He tried to focus on the words but he heard nothing except mumbling. "...Whenever you are called to a sick person I will appear to you. If I stand at the sick person's head, you may say with confidence that you can make him well again; then give him some of this herb, and he will recover. But if I stand at the sick person's feet, he is mine, and you must say that he is beyond help, and that no physician in the world could save him."

Sam heard the door open and something rushing in stepping in front of his mom and grab the side of his face. "Sam?" The voice sounded distant even though they were right next to him. "Sammy! What's wrong?" Sam tried to call out but he couldn't. "Sammy, can you hear me?"

Sam tried to focus on the voice but nothing was clearing his cobwebs of figuring out who was talking. He tried to focus on moving his head but he felt as if he was tied down.

"Sammy, you should get some rest." Mary's voice was like a lullaby as she helped tucked her son into his blanket.

"D-Dn't l-leave..." Sam moaned wanting to keep this moment from ending.

"I will never leave you alone Sammy." Mary said softly kissing his forehead. "Dean is going to be here to keep you company."

Sam was scared, terrified for the first time in two years that he was going mad. His fevered brain finally cooled down letting him remember both his parents and his girlfriend were dead. That there was no way either one of them should be there. That they would never be coming even with him crying and begging silently that they did.

"Good God, Sammy." Their was that voice again. It sounded closer now and Sam soon found out it was his older brother. His alive and well older brother. "Why didn't you tell me you had a fever? Did you think I wouldn't care?"

Dean's voice however didn't sound right. It sounded frantic, worried.

"'m sorry, D'n." Sam mumbled trying to swallow what little saliva he had in his mouth. "Dn't th-think you'd b-be home from sch'l."

"School?" Dean asked confused. "Why would I be in school?"

"Dad...he said yo-you were at sch'l."

Dean didn't know what to say to him. He hadn't been in school for nearly ten years. He had dropped out after he turned sixteen so that he could be a full time hunter with his and Sam's Dad.

"Dad? Sam...Dad's..." He couldn't get his mouth to say the words that he knew his brother should have known. "I'm getting a doctor. No matter how much it costs I'm getting one to come to you. You need a doctor so don't fight me on this."

Sam's body flexed trying to sit up trying to stop his brother from leaving him. "No!" He screamed his throat full of pain. "D-dn't l-leave me! G-Get Dad! O-Or Mom!"

"Sammy..." Dean said slowly his voice starting to shake. "I can't get them." His voice dropped a few octaves as Sam slowly fell into a rough sleep. "They're dead, Sammy."

For a few minutes Sam's brain denied what his older brother had just said. That his parents were dead. That it was just Dean in that room.

"No, D-Dad promised...Mom pr-promised they wouldn't leave..." Hot tears began to race down Sam's face as he denied what his brother had been telling him. "Dn't leave, D'n..."

Dean felt his heart shatter inside his chest with his younger brother supporting the delusion that their parents were somehow alive when they both knew it wasn't true. "I'll be righ back Sammy." He grabbed a trashcan and placed it next to the bed smelling from Sam's earlier messes. "Your coughing and fever are getting worse. I'll be back. I promise."

"N-No!" Sam begged grabbing Dean's wrist with a shaky grip. "Pl-Please stay...I-I don't..."

He couldn't talk any more. A cough had wormed its way back into Sam's chest causing Dean to help him into a sitting position and rub his back gently and trying not to look so helpless. Tears were stinging his eyes as he watched his younger brother suffer through this twisted unexpected sickness and it scared him of what would happen if he didn't go fetch a Doctor. Sam could sense that tension even in his fuzzy, fever and delusional mind.

Sam didn't know how it happened. But he was now floating in an endless sea of blackness. He didn't hear Dean quickly leave their hotel room leaving him all alone again. He was left praying that his parents and girlfriend would return though, as the feeling of being completely alone tucked around him. He couldn't stand being alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**PART 2**

The shadows in the room seemed to be alive, slowly coming towards Sam. He had always feared the monsters under his bed and the creatures that hid in his closets as a child. Right now, even as an adult, he felt like a helpless child. The shadows seemed to hunt him. Even in the darkness of his room, Sam felt scared. He always hated being alone in the dark. At least now that he was sick he dreaded being alone. His fevered mind was now against him. He wished he had some company to allow him to relax.

Slowly one shadow began to take on a more solid sinister form. At first the form looked harmless as nothing more then an elongated shadow stretched up to the ceiling. But very slowly the form began to become clear as it stopped near his head. Since it was close Sam could see the major features that made his heart freeze up with fear. The shadow's main form changed into flowing black robes. Skeletal hands appeared one of which was holding onto a large scythe. Slowly he watched as the figure moved down to stand at his feet and stared down at him, though it was a skeletal face, glowing grey eyes stared at his. Cold sweat fell down the side of his face as his heart was now gripped with fear.

_"If I stand at the sick person's head, you may say with confidence that you can make him well again...but if I stand at the sick person's feet, he is mine and you must say that he is beyond help, that no physician in the world could save him."_

Sam felt as helpless as a newborn in his crib, the night his mother was taken. He didn't have the energy or strength to scream. He wanted Dean, Jess, his Dad or Mom to be there. He needed someone to protect him from the monster that stood there anticipating his demise. Sam could see beside him that same candle as before fighting to stay lit.

That must be my life; his mind concluded. But why is it just standing there? Why isn't finishing me off? Why must it torture me so much? His mind kept asking questions. Soon Sam saw the creature slowly look to its left. Sam wanted to look, fearing it was what was going to end him.

"Thank God you were able to come and help." The voice was full of desperation and it seemed to grow more hysterical. "He just got sick in a matter of a few minutes. I didn't know what else to do."

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about sir." Another voice, older and more sophisticated. "I'm sure it's only a minor cold."

Soon Sam saw two new shapes enter into the room, the brief muggy air from the hot weather outside made its way in. But it only made Sam shiver more. He could see his brother's bulky frame head to one side as the smaller form walked slowly to the other.

The smaller man held onto a large black Doctor's bag. But something about the Doctor's face didn't sit well with Sam. Something about how the man stood there, taking his time pulling out instruments made Sam start to feel a cold strong grip on his feet.

"D'n..." Sam pleaded trying to move his feet out of the grip. "D'n...m-make it g-g-go away!" Tears began to mix with his sweat as the figure at the foot of his bed loosened his grip as Dean moved closer to his brother.

"Sammy...it's going to be alright." Dean gently patted his brother's shoulder and rubbed his head, just like he used to do when Sam was younger and scared. "The Doc's going to make you better. Okay?"

Sam shook his head weakly barely able to raise his hand and point at the foot of his bed. "M-Make it g-g-go away! M-Make it le-leave!"

"Make what go away, Sam?" Dean asked his eyes passing over the figure. He glanced around the room before giving up completely.

"It's r-right th-there...th-the..." Sam fell silent as he didn't know what to call it. But it was also because of the dark presence he couldn't speak.

Dean looked up at the Doctor who had witnessed the full exchange but tried to keep looking through his bag.

"He's delirious," Dean said confused as to why the Doctor was taking so long.

"He's not delirious, sir." The Doctor said grabbing a small flashlight before snapping his bag closed with a harsh snap.

"But he's seeing things." Dean pressed.

The Doctor gave Dean a no nonsense look before looking down at Sam. "Look at me, please." Sam tried to scrim as he began to whimper. The Doctor's hands were just as cold as the grip on his feet. But what made it worse were the Doctor's eyes. They were the same grey glowing eyes as the creature that was now reaching down to grip his foot once again. After taking out another tool from his bag and putting the penlight back in, the doctor placed his other tool back inside his bag before looking at Dean softly. Sam barely seen the Doctor glance down at the foot of the bed but begin to think that he was seeing things.

"I'm sorry," he said setting his tools back inside his bag. "He's dying, and he's beyond any help."

Dean's face paled as he glanced up at the Doctor. He was surprised by what the Doctor had just told him. He couldn't believe the Doctor would just give up after being in this room for less then ten minutes. "W-What," Dean said trying to keep his voice from breaking apart. "No...no...you have to do something!" Dean couldn't hold back his emotions. Sam could hear the pain his brother's voice. He hated hearing that sound. "He just got a cold...He's my brother...I can't loose him."

The Doctor slowly shook his head and sighed. It wasn't full of sympathy, it was like he expected Dean's behavior at the news. He stared into Dean's eyes his grey eyes behind his glasses glanced at the invisible being that hovered ready to take the soul of the sick young man. "Like I said, sir." The Doctor said his voice barely a whisper. "There is nothing I can do for him. I'm afraid he is too far gone to be saved."

Dean watched in horror as the Doctor began to pack his bag and turn to head out the door. Out of desperation he walked over to him unbeknownst breaking the grip the creature had on his brother's foot. He reached over and gripped the Doctor by the collar of his suit jacket before slamming him against the wall. His green eyes turning dark and tears threatened to spill. "You can't give up you son of a b***!" Dean growled gripping tighter. "You now figure out what is wrong with him and you cure him!" Tears now began to slide down Dean's cheeks as he stared hard into the Doctor's.

The Doctor was frightened by how the young man that held him spoke. He could sense this man was dangerous like a mother bear ready to protect her cubs. He felt more afraid of this man who continued to hold him against the wall then the young man who was starting to mumble incoherently. The Doctor saw something dangerous in the man's voice that made him not want to anger him.

"Alright. I will see what I can do." The Doctor said before standing next to Sam. "Help me turn your brother." He said. As Dean and the Doctor struggled to turn Sam in his bed the Doctor looked up at Dean. "I'm curious," he said after they had tried to get Sam comfortable now that his head as on the foot of the bed. "Why haven't you taken him to a hospital if you knew he was sick?" Dean didn't talk as he didn't know the answer himself.

The Doctor sighed heavily before pulling out a small bottle of liquid medicine and opened it. Grabbing a small syringe, the doctor put the tip of the syringe inside the medical cap and filled it with some of the unknown medicine. After disinfecting a small patch on Sam's shoulder he placed the needle into Sam's shoulder causing the young man in his care let out a low groan before falling still.

Dean looked scared at the doctor who worked on placing the medicine back inside his Doctor's bag. "Your brother should be on the road to recovery. Help me put him back." Dean nodded and helped tuck his brother inside the blankets.

Thank you, Doc." Dean said shaking the young Doctor's hand.

You're welcome, Mr..." the Doctor gave a nervous chuckle as he kept shaking Dean's hand. "I'm sorry, you were so desperate for my help that i never thought to ask for your name."

"Oh, its O'Toole." Dean said quickly. "So how much do I owe you?"

The doctor looked over at Sam then back at Dean. "A hundred dollars." Dean nodded before reaching into his wallet. "I'll try and come back to see how he is doing. Enjoy the rest of your night, Mr. O'Toole."

Dean turned to face his younger brother hoping that the medicine the Doctor gave him did indeed make him better. He didn't see the fear in the Doctor's eyes as he looked behind Dean.

_/_

Sam felt his body was different when he woke up a few hours later. He felt stronger but the pain in his chest and head still lingered. His eyes scanned the area but didn't see the tall dark creature at the foot of his bed. He didn't hear his Mom's voice or Dad. He didn't hear his late girlfriend soft breathing. He did however hear breathing coming to his side. Squinting against the blurriness he saw something hunched down beside him.

His mind struggled to make sense of what had happened. His mind was still suffering from his fever as he couldn't see where anything he had put on his bedside table anywhere. He could have sworn he had both his Dad's diary and his Brothers Grimm fairytale were both there before he first went to bed.

How long was I asleep; he thought searching the room to find a clue as to where the books were and where he was. Why is Dean in the chair and not his bed?

Sam tried to clear the fog that swirled in his mind when he noticed something on his brother's knee. He hoped it was his Dad's diary as he wanted to hopefully clear up what had happened and where he was. He forced his body to move despite it feeling like it was made of lead. He had to fill in the holes his sickness had caused him. His hand shook as he tried to reach for the book on his brother's leg without scaring him. But as the feeling of the book left his knee Dean jolted awake causing Sam to move back letting out a string of coughs.

During the chaos the book that was on Dean's knee fell and landed partly open. In between gasps of pain from coughing, Sam's heart froze when he heard paper being torn. Dean softly massaged his chest trying to calm down his beating heart.

"Damn, Sammy you scared me." Dean took in a slow breath when the massage wasn't helping. "How are you feeling?"

"...Book..." Sam wheezed out his voice soft.

"Good. I'm glad that you're on the road to recovery."

"No...Book..." Sam repeated trying to get his voice to come out clearer. "Un-Under your foot."

Dean took in Sam's words and it finally registered what his brother had told him. "Oh, book." Dean glanced down and lifted his foot up. Sam watched as his brother reached down to pick up the book and felt his heart drop when he recognized the tattered worn cover of his Brothers Grimm fairytales. "I thought you said, good." Dean chuckled as he opened the covers to see a few of the pages were bent and slightly sprinkled with dirt from his boot.

Sam reached out to hold the book in his hand feeling the weight before setting it down on the bed. "W-Water...?" Sam forced out his throat beginning to tickle again. Dean jumped up and filled up a cup with water and gently helped his brother to take some.

"I forgotten how dark those Grimm brothers were when it came to storytelling. I fell asleep reading them."

"W-Where are we?" Sam's question was a little more strong as the water calmed the tickling of his throat.

Dean's face twisted in confusion. "What do you mean Sammy?"

"Can't re-remember where we are."

Dean tried to give an explaination as to why his brother was forgetting that should always come easy for him. His only idea was the deep cold that nearly ripped his brother away from his life. "Don't you remember, Sammy? We were investigating strange deaths of people with a doctor connection?"

"L-Like Godfather Death." Sam nodded slowly. "Now I re-remember. Phoenix, Arizona"

"That's right." Dean said. "But I haven't been researching, I was more worried about you."

"I think I know what's killing these people." Sam said changing the subejct quickly as he didn't want to forget it.

"What is it?" Dean asked ready to take care of the creature as his brother was still recovering from being sick.

"A reaper." Sam sighed clearing his throat slightly. "The Doctor is the one that's controlling it."

"What do you mean the Doctor is controlling the reaper?" Dean asked.

"Brothers Grimm." Sam said feeling his body slowly start to sink into the bed. "It's the s-story of Godfather Death." Dean was starting to get confused and wondered if Sam once again was relapsing with the fever.

"I highly doubt the Doctor's controlling a reaper." Dean said grabbing the T.V. remote and turning on the television. "I think you should go to sleep, Sammy."

"Not tired." Sam stated before giving a slight yawn.

"Whatever you say, Sammy." Dean flipped through the channels before stopping on the news to see the picture of the Doctor he had just seen a few hours ago being the center of a breaking story. He slowly turned up the volume.

_"...It was the most unexpected sight."_ A reporter said standing in front of a large apartment complex, Dean had remembered driving past when they first got there. "_Friends and family were shocked to learn that the reknown Doctor, Doctor Henery Beels dropped dead from heart failure. Foul Play is not suspected."_

"Godfather Death..." Sam said feeling a sudden chill running through his body. "I guess I was supposed to die."

"Hey don't talk like that." Dean said turning the television off before checking his brother's temperature. "You know just as well as everyone else you're not supposed to die."

"I saw them, Dean." Sam said slapping his brother's hands away from his forehead. "I saw Dad, Mom and Jess." He could barely see his older brother turn pale as he talked. "I begged them not to leave."

Dean shook his head. "Sam, they're gone. They're not coming back."

Sam closed his eyes trying to think of what Dean meant. He couldn't believe that he was alone. Somewhere in the back of his mind he believed Dean. He knew what he meant by they weren't coming back.

"Sammy, how are you feeling?" Dean asked again as he didn't get an absolute answer.

"F-Fine. Just tired." It was the truth. Whatever had passed through him, Sam was ready for some more sleep.

"Alright. Go ahead and sleep then. Don't worry, though bro. I won't leave you." Sam knew his brother would never leave him. He knew that nothing was going to happen to him now. The Monsters from his nightmares before were none existent with his brother there. "_Hey Christy, you should start heading your way back to us."_ His brother was talking to his sister now. _"Yeah, he's doing a lot better. I think the worst is over."_

''I sure hope so, I'm n-not scared," he whispered, his mind finding some sort of peace. "O-of anything, no demons, no spirits...n-not even... G-godfather Death." He said and drifted off into a healing sleep.

**The End**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hope you had enjoyed the story, as much as my friend and i enjoyed writting.**

**Thank you once again and now, enjoy the tale that inspite the story you just read.**

**Good night**

* * *

**Godfather Death Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm**

A poor man had twelve children and had to work day and night in order just to feed them. Thus when the thirteenth came into the world, not knowing what to do in his need, he ran out into the highway, intending to ask the first person whom he met to be the godfather.

The first person who came his way was our dear God, who already knew what was in his heart, and God said to him, "Poor man, I pity you. I will hold your child at his baptism, and care for him, and make him happy on earth."

The man said, "Who are you?"

"I am God."

"Then I do not wish to have you for a godfather," said the man. "You give to the rich, and let the poor starve."

Thus spoke the man, for he did not know how wisely God divides out wealth and poverty. Then he turned away from the Lord, and went on his way.

Then the devil came to him and said, "What are you looking for? If you will take me as your child's godfather, I will give him an abundance of gold and all the joys of the world as well."

The man asked, "Who are you?"

"I am the devil."

"Then I do not wish to have you for a godfather," said the man. You deceive mankind and lead them astray."

He went on his way, and then Death, on his withered legs, came walking toward him, and said, "Take me as your child's godfather."

The man asked, "Who are you?"

"I am Death, who makes everyone equal."

Then the man said, "You are the right one. You take away the rich as well as the poor, without distinction. You shall be my child's godfather.

Death answered, "I will make your child rich and famous, for he who has me for a friend cannot fail."

The man said, "Next Sunday is the baptism. Be there on time."

Death appeared as he had promised, and served as godfather in an orderly manner.

After the boy came of age his godfather appeared to him one day and asked him to go with him. He took him out into the woods and showed him an herb that grew there, saying, "Now you shall receive your godfather's present. I will turn you into a famous physician. Whenever you are called to a sick person I will appear to you. If I stand at the sick person's head, you may say with confidence that you can make him well again; then give him some of this herb, and he will recover. But if I stand at the sick person's feet, he is mine, and you must say that he is beyond help, and that no physician in the world could save him. But beware of using this herb against my will, or something very bad will happen to you."

It was not long before the young man had become the most famous physician in the whole world. People said of him, "He only needs to look at the sick in order to immediately know their condition, whether they will regain their health, or are doomed to die." And people came to him from far and wide, taking him to their sick, and giving him so much money that he soon became a wealthy man.

Now it came to pass that the king became ill. The physician was summoned and was told to say if a recovery were possible. However, when he approached the bed, Death was standing at the sick man's feet, and so no herb on earth would be able to help him.

"If I could only deceive death for once," thought the physician. "He will be angry, of course, but because I am his godson he will shut one eye. I will risk it." He therefore took hold of the sick man and laid him the other way around, so that Death was now standing at his head. Then he gave the king some of the herb, and he recovered and became healthy again.

However, Death came to the physician, made a dark and angry face, threatened him with his finger, and said, "You have betrayed me. I will overlook it this time because you are my godson, but if you dare to do it again, it will cost you your neck, for I will take you yourself away with me."

Soon afterward the king's daughter became seriously ill. She was his only child, and he cried day and night until his eyes were going blind. Then he proclaimed that whosoever rescued her from death should become her husband and inherit the crown.

When the physician came to the sick girl's bed he saw Death at her feet. He should have remembered his godfather's warning, but he was so infatuated by the princess's great beauty and the prospect of becoming her husband that he threw all thought to the winds. He did not see that Death was looking at him angrily, lifting his hand into the air, and threatening him with his withered fist. He lifted up the sick girl and placed her head where her feet had been. Then he gave her some of the herb, and her cheeks immediately turned red, and life stirred in her once again.

Death, seeing that he had been cheated out of his property for a second time, approached the physician with long strides and said, "You are finished. Now it is your turn."

Then Death seized him so firmly with his ice-cold hand that he could not resist, and led him into an underground cavern. There the physician saw how thousands and thousands of candles were burning in endless rows, some large, others medium-sized, others small. Every instant some died out, and others were relit, so that the little flames seemed to be jumping about in constant change.

"See," said Death, "these are the life-lights of mankind. The large ones belong to children, the medium-sized ones to married people in their best years, and the little ones to old people. However, even children and young people often have only a tiny candle."

"Show me my life-light," said the physician, thinking that it still would be very large.

Death pointed to a little stump that was just threatening to go out, and said, "See, there it is."

"Oh, dear godfather," said the horrified physician, "light a new one for me. Do it as a favor to me, so that I can enjoy my life, and become king and the husband of the beautiful princess."

"I cannot," answered Death. "One must go out before a new one is lighted."

"Then set the old one onto a new one that will go on burning after the old one is finished," begged the physician.

Death pretended that he was going to fulfill this wish and took hold of a large new candle, but, desiring revenge, he purposely made a mistake in relighting it, and the little piece fell down and went out. The physician immediately fell to the ground, and he too was now in the hands of Death.


End file.
